


there's this movie (that i think you'll like)

by mr_charles



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Buffy speak hardcore, F/M, kind of cracky lbr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-03-31 13:25:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3979633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mr_charles/pseuds/mr_charles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>modern day (okay, late 80s) high school AU starring Jaime as that weird dude in high school who's really into that fantasy show on cable. </p><p>co-starring Brienne as the football player who has to admit he's kind of cute, Catelyn as the yearbook staffer, Ned and Robert as football players, and Cersei as the head cheerleader.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Westeros County was _lame_ , Jaime concluded. People in Meereen were probably super cool. People in Braavos were probably hella cool.

 

Basically people anywhere but Westeros County were probably cool. He thought about asking Tywin (he barely called the man “dad” anymore; only Cersei called him “daddy” when she pouted and needed money) if he could go to the Narrow Sea, the town where Mom had packed up and left for when she announced at the table that she was pregnant and it wasn’t Tywin’s. 

Tyrion is probably, like, what? eight or nine now. He’s totally old enough to meet his totally cool older brother Jaime. 

 

But half a buttered roll hits him in the back of the head with crumbs staining the pages of his _Crusades for the Kingdoms_ books. The back of his neck is greasy and he hears someone at the other lunch table yell “HOW’S YOUR BOOK GOING, _EMPEROR ANNIHILATOR?_ ”, followed by laughter. 

Maybe it’s best if he waits until he’s a little more cool before he meets his little brother. 

 

See, the thing is that Jaime has always been a little….different. He’s pretty smart, makes good grades, and is often pretty clever. It’s just that Tywin got into politics, right? And he always expected Jaime to follow. Wanted his boy to maybe be President someday. And, like, as cool as it would be to be the freakin’ _President,_ Jaime doesn’t want to do politics.

 

Two years ago, some cable channel started making those _Crusades for the Kingdom_ books into a show. It’s on late on Saturday nights because people, like, get ripped apart by torture wheels and there’s a lot of full frontal bush going on. And it’s probably the best show over. Gratuitous tits aside, it’s this brilliant fantasy world that Jaime would sacrifice a child to the Deity of the Five for to be able to live in. 

 

Because, like, there’s this knight on the show named Nicholas of House Burton. And he’s all tall and manly and has really nice hair and, like, he’s _everything_ Jaime wants to be. He’s good with the ladies (that Gwendoline the Gorgeous is one lucky lady, _woof_ ) and he’s really good in politics because he’s Emperor Jackson’s right hand man, despite the fact Nicholas lost his own right hand in battle with The Hurricane and Emperor Jackson gave him a new hand made of pure silver. Then Nicholas kills Jackson because he goes, like, batshit crazy and everyone calls Nicholas “the Emperor Annihilator” and the hand gets tarnished as a sign of his character development.

And Jaime is…well, just Jaime. He’s sitting on the bleachers, waiting for Cersei to get done at cheerleading practice. (one condition of the car Tywin helped him finance was he had to give Cersei a ride home after practice on Tuesdays) 

Sometimes, like today, the Tully girl— Catelyn, the cool one who does yearbook; not Lysa, she’s _crazy—_ sits with him. She might be the closest thing he has to a friend. She’s not as into _Crusades_ as he is but she’s watched enough of it with Ned to be able to keep up with him babbling about it while Ned Stark and Robert Baratheon, the guy Cersei has been “dating” for two years, grunt and ram into things during football practice. 

(Robert got a girl pregnant a year ago; everyone tried to deny it but that boy popped out with Robert’s black hair and blue eyes— his name is Gendry and Jaime bought him a stuffed dragon for a baby shower gift) 

 

“There’s biscuit in your hair,” Catelyn says, fussing with his hair. He’d been growing it out lately. Not because Nicholas of Burton has long hair or anything. “Who threw it?”

“What makes you think someone threw it at me?”

Catelyn looks at him. Something about her clear blue eyes reminds him of a mom. She’ll be a great one, he thinks. Just like Emily of the South in _Crusades_. 

“I don’t know who did it,” Jaime says, looking at the book in his lap. 

Catelyn sighs. “I’ll talk to Ned, see if he knows.” 

“Thanks, Cat.” 

She wraps her arms around his middle and rests her chin on his shoulder. “I’m sorry people are mean to you, Jaime.” She glances at the book and then back up to Jaime. “You’re better than he is,” she says, referring to Nicholas of Burton. “I know you want to be noble and valiant like he is and you are! But you have to remember he’s kind of a cock. He did push that little girl out the window.”

Jaime sighs and drapes his arm over Catelyn’s shoulders. “Thanks, Cat,” he says again. “I just want to be…I don’t know.”

“You want to be respected?” Catelyn offers. 

“I don’t think I’m going to get that here.” Jaime says. Catelyn doesn’t reply, but she does stay close to Jaime until Cersei starts whining.

“ _Jaimeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!_ I want to go _hoooooooome_!” 

 

Two weeks later, Jaime wakes up with a revelation. He doesn’t care. Like, okay he still cares about, like, school and shit because he kind of wants to go to medical school but he doesn’t care about what people think of him at school.

They’re never going to respect him. So why should he try?

In the morning before classes, he sneaks behind the drama stage to find Lysa. She’s got the same dark red hair as Catelyn, but her blue eyes are more “potentially murderous” than maternal. 

“Jaime!” she cries. She’s had a crush on him since the second grade, even though she was only in kindergarten at the time. 

“I need to borrow something.”

 

“Bobby B!” someone yells at lunchtime. “Look! Your girl’s dorky brother finally got his silver hand!”

Jaime’s right hand tightens around his pencil, the fabric of the silver glove stretching over his knuckles. 

At least nobody throws food at him today.

 

The next day, Catelyn urges him down from the bleachers. “I got someone for you to meet. She’s pretty into _Crusades,_ too!”

“ _She_?” Jaime is praying it ain’t Lysa. 

Instead, Catelyn calls to someone on the practice field. A great, hulking figure lumbers towards them and oh shit, Jaime thinks, _it’s a dude I’m being pranked yep this is it this is how I get killed I am totally going to die_ —

“Brienne!” Catelyn sings as the figure takes the football helmet off. Jaime had a class with Brienne Tarth last semester. Everything about her says “I will destroy you if you even look at me”. 

Brienne looks at Catelyn then at Jaime’s hand. “What’s with the glove?” is all she says. 

“Jaime’s into _Crusades for the Kingdom_ , too.” Catelyn smiles.

“Why do you want to be Nicholas? That guy’s a cock.” 

“Fine,” Jaime says, crossing his arms. “Who do you want to be then?”

“Nobody,” Brienne snorts. “Everyone on that show sucks.”

“Then why do you watch it?”

“Because now I gotta see how it ends and I like the battle scenes.” She gestures to the book in his non-gloved hand. “Which one you on?”

“Book Five,” he says, slightly snooty. 

“Don’t spoil it for me,” she says. _Or I’ll kill you_ hangs in the air between them. A whistle blows and Brienne affectionately smacks Catelyn on the shoulder. “Call me tonight, okay? We need to go over that stupid poem for Friday.” Catelyn nods and Brienne jogs back onto the field.

“She hates me,” Jaime says plainly.

“She hates everyone.”

 

And okay so Brienne is actually taller than he is. And probably more muscular. And she might be capable of ripping his head off with her bare hands. And even though she has big blue eyes and short blonde hair, she reminds Jaime of Lindsey of the Lake, the warrior babe in _Crusades_.

And Jaime realizes that Brienne might be perfect. Now if only he can get her to not hate him. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really think that if Cersei and Jaime canonically had a normal relationship, they would actually, like, not be terrible to each other.

Jaime has never actually, like, talked to a girl. Surprise! Well, he’s talked to Cersei and Catelyn and Lysa but that doesn’t _count_ because Cersei is his sister (there’s a set of twins on _Crusades_ , Leda and Jonas, with their matching black hair and blue eyes that have a lot of sex and, like, Jaime can barely think of Cersei as his twin sister) and Catelyn is Catelyn who has been dating Ned since middle school and when Lysa isn’t all cuckoo bananas, she’s too busy making cow-eyes at that Baelish boy to even count. 

So naturally, Jaime has no idea how to even talk to Brienne. He could slide her his copy of the first _Crusades_ book but he wants some kind of witty, Nicholas of Burton-esque one-liner to go with it. But Cersei is in the bathroom, getting ready for Saturday night date night. She should know how to talk to girls?

“Hey Cersei?” Jaime asks, leaning against the doorframe.

“What do you need?” She mumbles, applying lipliner. 

“Advice…on a girl…”

“Loony Lysa finally get to you? Heard she’s fond of forcing herself on that weird-ass Baelish kid behind the drama stage.”

“Cersei!”

“What?” she laughs, uncapping her lipstick. “Everyone knows it’s because he can pretend she’s Catelyn.”

Oh Gods, Jaime had almost forgotten about The Prom Incident last year where Petyr had arranged this grand prank involving two lunch ladies and a trombonist to ask Catelyn to prom. When she politely declined, the poor boy ran out of the cafeteria and rumor has it that Lysa kissed more than his pride that night. 

“It’s not Lysa.” A pause. A very awkward pause. “It’s Brienne.”

The lipstick skids across Cersei’s cheek as she turns to stare at him. “You want _my_ advice to talk to _Brienne the Brutal_? You’ve been watching too much of that stupid show, Jaime. Just because she’s all big and bulky doesn’t make her your Lola or whatever that big warrior bitch’s name is.”

“Cersei…”

“Ugh, fine,” she sighs, wiping her cheek. “Shave your goddamned beard to start with. You look a little homeless.”

“But—“

“Nuh-huh,” she chirps. “It works for Nicholas but not for you.”

“How do you even know?!” Jaime asks, simultaneously impressed and offended.

“Between you and Robert, I practically know the whole fucking show.” She looks at Jaime, his face lighting up. “Don’t get excited; I barely care.”

Jaime pouts a little. “What else?”

“Stand up straight,” she says, voice muffled as she bends to spray her hair. “Confidence is key. It says ‘I’m confident in who I am and nobody can fuck with me’. Also?” A hair flip. “Lose the fucking glove.”

 

 

The beard goes. The glove goes. The self-consciousness lingers. 

 

“Finally met a girl, huh?” Tywin drawls when a clean shaven Jaime sits down for Sunday dinner.

“Don’t get too excited, Daddy,” Cersei says, oddly chipper. “It’s Brienne Tarth.”

“Cersei!”

“Jaime!” she mocks.

Tywin looks disappointed, unsurprisingly. “The one who plays football with Robert?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

Tywin sighs, looking from his golden, head cheerleader daughter to his awkward, self conscious son. “Well, just don’t…get her in any trouble.”

Jaime’s ears flare red all through dinner. 

 

Monday comes sooner than Jaime would like. During the lunch period, he teeters awkwardly through the cafeteria, a book under each arm and holding his lunch tray. “Can I sit here?” he asks. 

Brienne raises her head and glares at him. “Why?”

“Because I brought you something,” Jaime says, indicating the book under his arm. 

“Sit there,” Brienne commands, pointing to the seat furthest away from her at the small table. Jaime sits and then slides Brienne a very tattered, torn, heavy book.

“What’s that?”

“The first _Crusades_ book,” Jaime says. “You told me not to spoil the show for you and I figured you’d want to read the books. I have them all. You’re welcome to borrow them. I trust you.”

She looks at the book (it’s embarrassingly well-worn; there are even coffee stains on the front cover) and then to Jaime. Even full of judgement and confusion, Jaime notices she has really pretty blue eyes. “You…trust me?”

Jaime nods.

“Why?”

Shyly, Jaime points to the table of jocks sniggering at them. He hears one of them go “are you _fucking kidding me_?”

Brienne grabs the book and puts it in her bag next to her. “This doesn’t make us buddies, you know that, right?”

Jaime nods and they eat their lunches in silence. Brienne doesn’t even say anything when she gets up and leaves. Her steps are awkward and heavy; she walks like a man. And even though she isn’t curvaceous and buxom and porn star-y like all the women on _Crusades_ , Jaime finds himself attracted to her blue eyes, her broad shoulders, and even her powerful thighs. 

Across the cafeteria, Cersei gives him a thumbs up. 

 

At 9:30, the Lannister house phone rings. 

At 9:32, Cersei knocks on his door. “It’s for you.” Confused, Jaime takes the phone from his sister.

“Hello?”

“Does Josephine die?” He barely recognizes Brienne’s voice. 

“What?”

“Dude, I’m on Frederick’s last chapter and Josephine just fell off the fuckin’ spire! _Does she die_?” 

“You told me not to spoil it for you, Brienne!” 

Cersei covers her mouth to stifle her laughter.

“Fuck it, I don’t care.”

“No, Josephine does not die. She does use the Dark Magicks to become a peacock though. That’ll make more sense in Book Three, though. Except it still doesn’t make a lot of sense but—“

“Okay thank you bye!” Click. 

Jaime stares at the phone for a minute. 

“Well then—“ Cersei starts, laughing.

“You shut up.”

 

Brienne returns the book Tuesday during football.

“You finished it in _two days_?”

Brienne shrugs. “I was up all night doing my chemistry homework for Mr. Targaryen’s class. It was a nice motivator to finish the stupid unit on fire.”

Jaime is still shocked. Even at his most urgent, it’s still taken him two weeks to read a _Crusades_ books. “Do you want me to bring you the second one tomorrow?”

Brienne shifts her weight nervously. “Can I get it tonight?” There’s a chunk of blonde hair stuck to her forehead and Jaime wants to reach up and push it back. 

“Y-Yeah!” he stutters. “I can drive you to my place.”

Brienne smiles. Jaime feels like he’ll never see something so pretty again. 

 

Tywin is angry that Jaime left Cersei at school, but that diffuses when he sees Brienne.

“You must be Miss Tarth,” he says, looking at her still in her football gear. 

She blushes but sticks her hand out. “Mr. Lannister,” she says confidently, shaking his hand. “I read your report on municipal parks and recreation for government last semester. Very good work, sir.”

Tywin smiles, a sight Jaime hasn’t seen since Joanna left. “So Jaime, what is the occasion?”

“I was going to get some books for Brienne?” Jaime turns red. “I’m going to go to that. Like, now.” He runs upstairs to his room, leaving Brienne and Tywin alone. In his room, he decides to let Brienne borrow the next two books. He looks at his tapes of seasons one and two of _Crusades_ on his dresser but decides he doesn’t trust Brienne _that_ much. 

Back downstairs, he can hear Tywin chuckle and Brienne talking animatedly.

“So there we are, end of the third quarter! Getting ready for the most bitchin’ play in history, right? And then some chick from the bleachers yells ‘ _ROBERRRRRRT! I’M PREGNANNNNNNNNNNNT!_ ’ and Bobby just, like, loses his mind! He gets tackled by that big-ass Drogo dude from Vaes Dothrak and just goes down like a sack of cheating bricks.”

“So _that’s_ why Cersei broke up with him for three weeks around that time.” Tywin smiles. 

What the fuck is this shit?, Jaime thinks. 

“Ah, Jaime,” Tywin says. “I hope you don’t mind but I’ve invited Miss Brienne here—“ Brienne turns a pretty pink at the nickname “—to the Governor’s Dinner next Saturday.”

“I thought you were taking Cersei and Robert to that?”

“Robert’s taking Cersei to that lobster place downtown for their anniversary,” Brienne explains.

It dawns on Jaime what Tywin has done. He doesn’t know if he should punch his dad or buy him a really nice Father’s Day card. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who cooks dinner????? is it Tywin?????


	3. Chapter 3

“Ugh, Catelyn,” Brienne sighs.

“Ugh, Brienne,” Catelyn mocks.

“This is a bad idea,” Brienne says, wriggling into the dress she bought. It was pink. Pink is a girly color, right? The lady at the department store had said things like “tea rose” and “tulle”, but to Brienne, it’s just a puffy pink dress. Puffy is good, right? That pop star wore a puffy dress at that music awards show where she rolled around on stage. Puffy is girly, right?

“The only bad idea here is that you bought,” Catelyn wrinkles her nose, “pink.”

“What’s wrong with pink?!” With this dress, Brienne is all pink and blonde and pretty—

“You’re a summer,” Catelyn rolls her eyes. “With your skin tone and hair color, you should have gone with a nice dark blue or a red!”

“Blue and red is our family’s colors,” Lysa titters from the door. “It’s on our crest.”

“Yeah, the crest that dates back to 1145, big whoop. What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Petyr is coming by,” Lysa grins. Oh God, she’s creepy.

“Well be careful,” Catelyn says, crossing her room to shut the door. Her voice drops. “Dad isn’t paying for another… _operation_ , Lysa.”

Lysa’s face drops. “You’re so mean to me!” she screeches before running off.

Catelyn sighs before looking at Brienne. “You know how to put eyeliner on?”

“No?”

 

It takes an hour to get Brienne’s makeup on. She twitches and jerks and yells “what the fuck?!” too much for Catelyn’s tastes. But finally, fucking finally Catelyn is able to get some lipstick and blush on her friend.

“What else?” Catelyn announces, walking in circles around Brienne.

“What else?! What else?!” Brienne raises one leg awkwardly. “I shaved my legs, Catelyn!”

Catelyn looks at Brienne’s razor-burned shins and scabby ankles. “I can tell.” A pause. “Shoes?”

“I brought my good Vans,” Brienne shrugs. “The ones without mud on them.”

Catelyn presses her fingers to her temples.

 

“Chin up,” Cersei commands.

“How do you know how to tie a tie?”

“Because Robert can’t,” she smiles before grimacing. “God, why are you wearing brown? You look like a bear.”

Jaime scoffs. “Because it’s the only nice shirt I own?”

“Surprised it’s not red like _Nicholas of Burton’s_.” Cersei sucks her teeth as she focuses. It’s a tic both of them have. Jaime wonders if it’s some twin bullshit.

“Well not all of us can look as good in red as you do,” Jaime jokes nodding at his sister’s nice red dress.

“Oh shut up. There!”

“Thanks!”

Cersei nods on her way out. “Oh, and Jaime?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t be weird.” And with that, she swishes out of his room.

 

Jaime walks down the block to Catelyn’s house, hands sweating up a storm the whole time. He tries to think of what to say, what to talk about. His brain just keeps offering up _Crusades, Crusades, Crusades_ , but Jaime thinks Brienne deserves stimulating conversation about what’s going on in the world and who was on that TV talk show last night. 

Jaime knocks on the Tully’s door. 

Nothing.

Nothing.

Jaime feels like he’s about to piss himself out of fear.

Thudding. Yelling.

A very flushed Catelyn answers the door. Her eyes are bright with excitement. “Brienne will be _right_ down!” she says, loudly and hurriedly. She hauls ass back upstairs, leaving Jaime standing awkwardly right inside the door.

From the couch, that Baelish kids says “hey”.

It’s so tacky, Jaime thinks. But Brienne looks _perfect_ as she nervously comes down the stairs. She’s all pink and fluffy skirts and lipstick and Jaime feels like he’s in love. 

“Shall we?” Jaime offers an elbow for her to loop her arm through. 

Brienne mumbles in agreement and Catelyn sing-songs “ _byyyyyyyyyyye_ ” as they leave. 

 

They walk in silence. But Jaime notices it’s a good silence. Brienne occasionally looks over at him and blushes a shade of red that clashes with her dress. A distant part of his brain notices she doesn’t have nearly the bust needed for a dress like hers. 

 

“Ah, Miss Tarth— you look absolutely darling,” his father all but purrs when they get back to the Lannister house. 

“ _Daaaaaad_!” Jaime whines before he can stop himself. 

Brienne slaps him on the chest. “Shut up, Jaime. Let me have this moment.”

 

Dinner is awkward. Oh God, dinner is awkward. Brienne is terrible in crowds and can only muster a weak handshake every freakin’ time another one of his dad’s co-chairs or donors or whoever the fuck these people are come over and poke Jaime about her. 

Tywin is explaining that Jaime and Brienne go to school together when an older lady asks Brienne if she’s involved in any clubs.

“Just the football team, ma’am,” Brienne says politely.

The woman’s gaze goes from blank but friendly straight into judgmental. “Oh…well I can see that.”

“What?” is all Brienne says. Jaime can feel her stiffen up.

“What my wife means is that you look very…healthy,” the woman’s husband interjects, taking his wife by the elbow. “Come on, honey. Let’s go talk to that candidate from Dorne.”

 

When the food is finally served, Jaime notices Brienne only picking at her plate.

“E-everything okay?” Great, now he’s stuttering and she can barely talk to anyone. What a pair they make.

“It’s this damn dress,” she sighs. “It’s too tight for me to eat in.”

Jaime pauses, a forkful of steak halfway to his mouth. “Okay,” he says, setting his silverware down. “I’ll be done, too.”

Brienne looks at him, blue eyes full of confusion. Whatever Catelyn did to her has worked. She’s beautiful, even when she’s lost and confused. 

But she doesn’t argue or ask questions. She nervously takes a sip of her water and her pinky finger intertwines with Jaime’s. 

Jaime’s heart doesn’t stop pounding until Tywin announces it’s time to leave. Even in the car, Brienne keeps her hand close to his. 

 

“Thank you very much for this, sir,” she says politely to Tywin as they get out of the car.

“Anytime, Miss Tarth,” Tywin says. “Jaime, are you walking her home?”

“Shall we?” Jaime asks, offering his elbow again. Tywin sighs. Brienne giggles. 

 

Halfway down the block, Brienne stops. 

“Don’t tell anyone about this,” is all she says before she’s taking his face between her hands and swooping down to awkwardly kiss his dry lips. 

The kiss is over before Jaime can completely register it. “Wow,” he says, stunned. “That was…”

“Shut up, Jaime. Let me have this moment.”

**Author's Note:**

> spoiler alert: still trash


End file.
